


Step

by AquilaKate



Category: Graceland (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-08
Updated: 2014-09-29
Packaged: 2018-02-12 09:15:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2104044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AquilaKate/pseuds/AquilaKate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU. Charlie DeMarco just wants to pick her sons up from school and have a relaxing evening at home. But Paul Briggs seems to have forgotten to pick up his daughter, so now that isn't happening. </p>
<p>Charlie and Paul's kids go to the same school, and they get off to a rocky start.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One

Little fingers are poking her in the eye as they try to pry open her eyelids, and little hands are gently slapping her cheeks. Charlie groans and presses a pillow to her face.

"Mama?"

"Mama…"

"Mama!"

"Boys," she says sleepily. "It's very early in the morning. Is someone hurt?"

"No."

"Is someone sick?"

"No, but-"

"Is anything flooded or on fire? I'm talking to you Johnny."

"That wasn't my fault! And, no."

"Then why are you out of bed?" Reluctantly, she gives in to whoever is tugging at the pillow and lets them take it. Squinting against the light coming in from the hall, she opens her eyes to see two grinning faces, sitting on their knees, half on her chest, looking deceptively adorable.

"We're hungry," Johnny explains. Mike nods vigorously.

Charlie sighs and tilts the alarm clock on the nightstand so she can see the time. Six freakin' fourteen. Good god, she's raising morning people. "Let me guess. Pancakes?"

They scramble off her, out the door, and she takes an accidental elbow to the gut in the process. There's excited yelling coming from the kitchen, and the sound of chairs scraping against the floor has her rubbing the sleep out of her eyes and following the little terrors into the kitchen before their attempt at 'cooking' gets too out of control. She flicks a light on and grumbles about the fact that she's up before the sun, especially after being up until two the night before, preparing briefs on her work that week for her handler at the bureau.

She's lucky to have scored this gig at the tattoo parlor because it allows her to remain undercover, while still working a nine to five schedule to keep things less hectic for the boys. Sometimes she misses running down the leads that she's digging up and passing along to other agents now, but it feels good to be able to get her sons from school every day and spend the whole evening with them.

Charlie winces. Except today. "I have a late client at work today so you're going to stay for after school program."

From where he's sitting politely at the table, Mike agrees. She runs her fingers through his hair and kisses his cheek. Johnny is standing on a chair by the stove, waiting impatiently to help her with the pancakes. She tilts his head back until he's looking straight up at the ceiling and into her eyes. "Do not," she warns sternly, "give that teacher a hard time again. Capiche?"

"Capiche," he agrees, giggling and grinning like the cat that's _planning_ on eating the canary. Unable to resist, she presses kisses all over his face because the kid's a pistol and she loves it.

"Who wants what?" she asks, shaking her head at these kids and their insistence on pancakes made into _shapes_.

* * *

He hears the screaming from the stairwell, and his heart stops in his chest. His hands grapple for his gun at his waist, instinct overruling the logical portion of his mind that knows he's wearing a wetsuit and unarmed. The twenty or so feet from where he is to the apartment door stretches into miles in his eyes as he breaks into a sprint, hardly slowing down before he smashes through the door and it swings back and smashes against the wall.

DJ looks up from where he's holding Paige upside down, digging his fingers into her sides while she shrieks in laughter. "Something wrong?"

Paige dangles from his grasp, flushed and out of breath but completely unharmed.

"No," Paul says, breathing heavily. "It's all good."

It takes a few seconds for his heart rate to come down, but he tries not to let it show. "You're just gonna take that off of him?" he teases, tickling her neck as DJ resumes his attack on her sides. "Not even going to try to fight him off?"

With surprisingly impressive strength, she pulls her shoulders up and aims playful blows at his chest and arms. DJ laughs and plants her in a chair at the table, smoothing the mess he made of her braided pigtails with one hand. "Good surf?" he asks, pouring himself a glass of orange juice and some milk for Paige.

"Good as it gets, my friend." For once in his life, he got in at a reasonable hour the night before and treated himself to an early morning surf. Unfortunately, his professional luck doesn't seem to be holding up because he expects to be tied up with this heroine bust until at least seven that night.

"I have to put in some-" Paige looks up at him, and he changes his tone. "… _overtime_ this afternoon. I need you get Paige from school at three."

While DJ knows what he does for living, Paige is still a little fuzzy on the details, so he tries to keep the cop talk to a minimum. Dales nods his understanding over his sister's head.

"Can do." He grabs his books off the counter and musses Paige's hair. "See ya later, kid."

After pouring a bowl of cereal for Paige, Paul goes to get himself dried off and dressed for work. Only when he's alone does he think about easy it had been to believe that someone was in the apartment harming his family this morning. How completely in the realm of possibility it was that someone would try to get back at him for his work at the bureau by hurting his seven year old.

Briggs takes a deep breath and tucks his gun in his waistband.

* * *

Despite her best efforts, she's maybe twenty minutes late to pick up the boys at the elementary school. Her last client cried like a baby and demanded a break every other second, which has shredded what little patience she had in the first place. So she's irritated and in a rush when she jogs across the parking lot towards the library. Still, she can't help but notice the girl on the bench outside the school, swinging her legs with her chin in her hands.

Charlie looks around. The parking lot is empty, except for a few faculty vehicles that she recognizes. How long has this kid been there?

She hesitates before calling, "You okay, kiddo?"

"Yeah," the girl answers, sounding unsure. "I think so."

She's hit by the cop's instinct to stop and help, but knows that her boys are waiting for her and forces herself to move along. In the library, Mike is sitting quietly next to the librarian, and Johnny is, as expected, being an absolute horror for the library aid with some of the other kids with parents that are running late. She recognizes the Zelanski boy next to him and rushes to lead her son away, knowing all too well how much trouble those two can get up to together.

"How was school?" she asks, one arm around Johnny's shoulders and Mike gripping her other hand. Charlie sighs contentedly. It won't be long before they think they're too big for this, so she soaks it up and enjoys while she can. Although she has a feeling that Johnny will always be affectionate, she'll have some fun embarrassing the hell out of Mikey when he gets older.

"Our teacher totally forgot we were supposed to have a spelling test. It was freaking awesome," Johnny, looking through his backpack for his hat.

Charlie frowns and gives his shoulders a little shake. "Hey, hey. Don't curse. You know better than that."

That's probably her bad, she thinks guiltily. He's been around the tattoo parlor too much lately, and she doesn't have the cleanest of mouths to set an example with. Mike tugs on her arm, and she smiles and leans down to his level.

"I was student of the day," he announces proudly, pulling at the star sticker on his shirt to show her.

"You were?" she says with exaggerated amazement. "That's fantastic! Did you get to lead the line?"

He grins and nods, and Charlie ruffles his hair, pulling them both closer as they exit the building. She frowns when sees that the girl is still there, hugging her backpack against her chest. She's not much bigger than Mike, but looks to be about Johnny's age. "Is that little girl in your class?" she asks, nodding towards her.

Johnny blushes guiltily and stares at the pavement. "That's Paige," Mike explains, sounding awed.

_Paige_ …where has she heard that name?

"The same Paige that decked you for tormenting your brother?" Charlie demands when she realizes the connection. Johnny nods.

Last week, he came home with a black eye and a note from the teacher explaining that there had been an altercation on the playground. She'd been livid that someone had put their hands on her son, but cooled down once she pried the whole story out of him. Apparently without realizing it, Johnny took his teasing a little too far and almost had Mikey in tears before the girl ( _Paige,_ evidently) took matters into her own hands and socked who she thought to be a playground bully.

Johnny was pretty gutted about being hit by a _girl_ , but seems to have moved past it. And now Mike's got the sweetest little hero worship thing going on. He waves shyly at her, half hidden by his mother's knees. Paige waves back, trying to hide a sniffle with the top of her backpack.

Charlie sighs. She's exhausted and she just wants to take her boys home for a relaxing evening at home. But that probably wasn't an option before, and definitely isn't now that the girl's crying.

"Stay here," she orders, settling the boys on their own bench before cautiously approaching Paige's.

When she sees her coming, Paige rubs the back of her hand across her eyes, unsuccessfully trying to hide her tears. Charlie sits down next to her, stifling a laugh when the girl slides a foot in the opposite direction, until she's only half sitting on the bench.

"Did you happen to punch my son in the face the other day?" she asks casually.

Paige startles, or for a second, Charlie worries that her ice breaker won't work as well as she thought it would. But then Paige straightens up and looks her dead in the eye. "I didn't know they were brothers," she says defensively. "And he's shouldn't have been picking on him just cuz he's littler!"

Charlie laughs and puts her hands up in surrender. "I know. I told him as much. I mean, I didn't _hit_ him, but I made my point."

"Good." She looks the other way and rests her head on her backpack, and the sniffling starts up again. Charlie winces in sympathy and pulls her phone out of her pocket. "Where's your mama, sweetheart? Do you think we can call her?"

Little shoulders shrug. "Don't have one."

"Okay," she says patiently, decidedly not touching _that_ one with a ten foot pole. "Who was supposed to come get you today?"

"DJ," Paige answers, turning her head to rest on her other cheek, apparently ready to look at her. "I don't think he's coming," she whispers hesitantly, looking pained at the idea.

Considering regular school was over almost two hours ago, and she's pretty sure she's never seen this girl in the library for after school program, that's a safe bet.

"I won't lie to you. I don't think so either."

For a second, it looks like Paige is about to cry again, but at the last second, she holds it together and crosses her arms over her chest, stiff faced. Charlie can't help it. She's starting to like this kid.

"What do you say we call and yell at him, huh?" she offers, giving her a little wink. Paige perks up.

By the grace of god, Paige knows the number, but DJ (who turns out to be her high school aged brother) doesn't pick up. She also provides her father's name and number, but going incommunicado is apparently a family trait because Paul Briggs doesn't answer his phone either.

"Do you know his work number?" she asks desperately. "What kind of job does your daddy have?"

Something about that makes Paige go pale, and she immediately hides her face in the backpack again. "I don't remember."

That's a lie if she's ever hear one, but Charlie doesn't feel up to calling her out on it. She scrubs at her eyes and looks out at the empty parking lot. Even the faculty vehicles are gone now. Paige wraps her arms around her knees and blinks heavily, the way her own sons do when they miss a nap and have a big day.

"Alright," she sighs, finally making a decision. "Tell you what, babe. We're gonna leave a message for your daddy with my phone, and he can come pick you up at my house."

This Paul Briggs is in for it when she gets her hands on him.


	2. Chapter 2

Wherever Paul Briggs is, he owes her big time for being the best damn reluctant babysitter in the history of people who get stuck with other people's kids.

Granted, she doesn't do anything vastly different from what she would do with just her boys. But it's still pretty impressive that she managed to get all three of them down for a needed nap, help with their homework, feed them a nutritious supper, and still find time to clean the kitchen while the kids are playing in the living room.

Of course, she has all this time because it's been _two hours_ and no one has come to claim this child.

Again, he owes her big time.

Charlie throws her dishtowel in the sink and peers around the corner to see what's going on with the kids. The older two are climbing the bookcase while Mike acts as lookout, which she discovers because Mike is five and therefore a terrible look out. Wincing, she dashes into the living room to intervene.

Okay, not her finest moment of supervision. Maybe Paul Briggs only owes her medium time.

"Stop," she corrects sternly, wrapping an arm around each of their waists and lowering them to the floor. "You're too heavy, it'll come down on top of you."

Paige and Johnny exchange a thoughtful look, before their eyes swivel towards where Mike is coloring on the floor.

"Hey, Mikey…"

Charlie closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. "No. No one is climbing the bookcase. It's time to play another game."

That opens the door to a whole new catastrophe because Mike wants to play FBI (like he always does), and while Johnny's agreeable, Paige clams up and starts shaking like a leaf, refusing to play without a clear reason as to why. In the interest of not traumatizing the poor girl further, Charlie temporarily lifts the ban on indoor football, which they're all willing to play, and sits down on the couch to watch them gleefully destroy her living room.

"My dad teaches tie dye," Paige announces, seemingly out of nowhere. "And nothing else. That's all he does."

Charlie nods, only partially listening. She's bothered, keeping one eye on Paige who has gone from terror to sunshine the second the FBI game was taken off the table. What kind of family teaches a kid to be that afraid of the police?

There's a knock at the door, so maybe she's about to find out.

"Stay here," Charlie orders. "And everyone keeps both feet on the ground."

When she goes to answer it, she has at least half a dozen starters to what is going to be one hell of a rant swimming in her head, but when she opens the door, she's momentarily surprised into silence.

"Paul Briggs?" she asks suspiciously.

He nods, and Charlie steps aside to let him in, eyeing him carefully because he hasn't even said anything and yet she instantly gets this strange feeling like she's being deceived.

She pictured Paige's father as the clean cut type, blonde like her, probably in a business suit with his hand glued to his cell phone. Paul Briggs is not what she expects.

Still, doesn't make him any less of a jackass.

"Well, look who finally showed up. Decide you're gonna keep her after all?" she asks, staring directly at him in a way that would intimidate most people but doesn't seem to be fazing him.

He chuckles guiltily. "Yeah, that's what I was planning."

"Really? Because two hours at the school and two here means the kid was unattended for almost four hours." She tries to maintain eye contact as she packs Paige's backpack but has to look down to find her homework. "Doesn't seem like someone who plans on getting his daughter back," she says under her breath.

Instantly, he goes from sheepish to defensive, pulling himself up to full height, like that's going to make him any less wrong. "Look, my son got detention-"

Charlie laughs highly. "It's been a great day for this family, huh?"

"-and I was working late," he continues firmly. "I'm a single parent."

"So am I, but somehow I manage to bring both my kids home at night." She smiles scornfully and figures out which folder is Paige's before shoving it in her backpack. "And it's 7 o'clock. How late do people tie-dye in this town?"

Paul looks at her like he's questioning her sanity. " _What?_ "

"Paige says you teach tie-dye," she mutters, defensively because even though it didn't sound right to her either, it was also too strange for someone to completely fabricate, even a second grader.

It takes a minute but eventually he interprets that one and his face relaxes for the first time since he showed up at her door. Without that pinched look on his face, she can see that he's _tired_ and has been for some time now. (He's also pretty damned easy on the eyes but that's hardly relevant.)

"Tae bo," he explains, chuckling and rubbing his face. "I'm a tae bo instructor."

"S'what I said!" A voice sounds from around the corner.

"Paige," Paul sighs, crouching down to her level. "You okay?"

Her arms wind around his neck and he scoops her up onto his hip. "I thought it was like last time," she mutters into his neck.

Charlie startles. "Oh, so this is a habit of yours?"

Briggs glares at her and kisses the side of Paige's head. "I wouldn't do that," he promises. "DJ got detention, and they took his phone. He tried so hard to get there. We both did."

"Not hard enough," Charlie snorts.

That gets his attention again. "Do you have something to say?"

Smiling sweetly, she gently puts her hands on either side of Paige's head, over her ears, to muffle her hearing. "Yes," she admits, consciously keeping her face happy. "What kind of father leaves a seven year old sitting alone outside the school like that?"

"What kind of person takes a kid they don't even know?"

"I knew her! She was the kid who hit my kid!"

"What?" Paul grabs her wrists and uncovers Paige's ears. "Paige?"

She heaves the biggest sigh that Charlie has ever seen come from such a little girl. "DJ signed the note."

Paul closes his eyes, shakes his head, and Charlie can feel some of the tension leaving the room. It's hard to keep reading him the riot act when he has that weary, tried-patience look on his face that she knows she wears often enough.

"She's fine," she says finally. "And the hit wasn't entirely undeserved."

Nodding, he reaches for Paige's backpack and starts towards the door. "Thank you," he says, lingering awkwardly in the open doorway. "For…everything."

They're in the hallway before she finally convinces herself to do something and follows. "Wait," she calls reluctantly.

Paul turns around.

"How long is your boy in detention?"

"All week," he says, on the border of curious and suspicious.

_She's going to regret this…_

"I'll pick her up," she offers. "And you can come get her here. Just so I know you're not letting her hitchhike or anything."

* * *

"We're home," Paul announces, holding the door for Paige to sprint through. "Safe and sound."

Dale pops up from where he was seated on the couch, holding his face in his hands. He immediately scoops his sister up in his arms, clearly wracked with guilt, just like he was earlier when he finally managed to get ahold of Paul to tell him Paige was missing. "I'm so sorry, Paige. They wouldn't let me leave, and they took my phone."

"You forgot me!" she accuses.

"No, I didn't," he tries to explain, balancing her on his hip while she scrambles to get high enough to look him in the eye. "I was in detention-"

"You forgot me!"

Chuckling, Paul throws his wallet and keys on the counter and hangs Paige's bookbag from the back of a kitchen chair. "You should cut him a little slack. He was nice enough to sign that note for you."

DJ winces, but Paige seems to think that sounds like a good deal because she kisses his cheek before she squirms to be released. He puts her down and keeps his eyes on the floor as she runs to her room.

"So listen, about that," he mutters, dragging a hand across the back of his neck. "I just didn't think it was a big dea-"

"She conned you, huh?" Paul guesses.

"She definitely conned me," he admits. "I'll think long and hard about it during my detention."

"Yeah, what's up with that anyway?" They both sit down at the table, and Paul grabs a beer for himself and a soda for DJ.

This is new. Dale's no angel, but he doesn't cause trouble for the sake of it either. Paul looks curiously at his son, who is suddenly in no mood to look him in the eye.

"I skipped some classes," DJ says mostly into his glass. "Went to see...um..."

"DJ," Paul groans into his hands. "You know I don't care about the ditching so much. But that other stuff can get real ugly, real fast. If it were up to me it wouldn't be a problem, but..."

"I know," he says dejectedly.

Paul suppresses a sigh _. Damnit Cassandra…_

"We'll talk about it tomorrow," he says finally. "Or maybe I'll forget and we won't."

Nodding gratefully, DJ takes a long sip of his soda. "So what was the lady that took Paige like?"

Wincing because that's not a phrase any parent likes to hear, Paul shrugs. "I'm sure she was nice to her. Not so much to me."

* * *

The next day, Charlie leaves a curt message to tell him that she took the kids to the beach and if he wants his daughter back before 8:00 pm, he would just have to make it work. That would probably irritate any other parent, but he figures this is nothing compared to how he inconvenienced her yesterday and he owes Paige a day at the beach anyway.

He sits down on the other half of Charlie's towel and joins her in watching the kids at the edge of the water, Johnny and Mike in their swim trunks and Paige wearing an oversized t-shirt that must belong to Charlie. Charlie nods to acknowledge she knows he's there but doesn't look at him, staring stiff faced towards the ocean. Paul sighs.

"I'm not actually a terrible person, you know."

She shrugs and lifts her sunglasses to the top of her head. "I don't think you're a terrible person. I think you're a terrible parent."

He whistles lowly. "Ouch."

She doesn't mean it, he's sure of it. And even in she did, what does she know? It really shouldn't matter what this woman who has known his family for _one day_ (and one of their worst days, at that) thinks about him.

Except, for some reason, it does.

They sit in silence, until Charlie decides to make an effort at polite conversation and nods towards a group of people taking some kind of exercise class a ways down the beach. "Feel like jumping in?"

"No," he snorts. "I think I'll be able to resist the urge to kick box on the beach."

Her head snaps towards him, and suddenly she's looking at him too intensely. "That's tae bo," she says slowly. "They're doing tae bo."

_Shit_.

"Not well," he lies smoothly, pretending to squint for a better look. He shrugs, heart racing. "Doesn't even look like it."

He hasn't blown a cover like that in a long time, but the feeling comes rushing back. It's like what he would imagine falling out of a moving car would feel like in that split second before you hit the ground. Even with stakes so low that he can't even really identify them, his stomach still drops.

"Paige!" he calls when he notices the three of them clustering around what looks like a jellyfish, almost glad for the distraction. "Don't touch!"

Her toe inches closer, and Paul sighs and stands up. "Paige!"

"Come on, guys," Charlie calls, reclining back on her bent elbows. Casual, like her kids weren't about to get themselves stung. "Time to go."

All three come scrambling up the beach, legs comically unsteady on the sand.

"Guess what?" Johnny offers, grinning and pounding his ear against a towel to let the water drain out. Distractedly, Charlie murmurs something that may have been a guess as she kneels to help Mike with the zip on his sweatshirt.

"We're gonna have a fire on the beach with Paige!"

Paige is struggling to get her school shirt back over her head, and when Paul tugs it into place, it reveals her face, completely unabashed. "We're having a bonfire tonight, huh?" he asks.

"Am I ever going to have to go home with strangers again?" she asks innocently.

He opens his mouth to say something, but falters, finger stuck out in a stern point. "Ow," he says finally, vaguely impressed.

So yes, they're having a bonfire tonight.

"Come on, Chuck," Paul assures, throwing one arm over her shoulder and using the other to herd the children in front of them. "It will be fun."

* * *

It was fun.

God help her, it was fun.

Albeit, in the past few years, the bar for adult fun has been set so low that it's really only propped up on one side. Still, it was fun. Not that she'll ever admit that to Briggs.

She plans to keep that little tidbit tightly under wraps made of sarcasm and cracks at his parenting when he comes by that day, but it isn't Paul on the other side when she opens the door. The elusive DJ that she has heard so much about smiles politely and asks to be let in.

It's not that she's disappointed. It's just that she thought she was going to see Paul and now she isn't, and that makes her feel…odd.

Dale is polite but definitely not a suck up. Paige clearly adores him, and he's a high schooler who is older and cooler and _drives_ , so her boys are obviously fascinated.

When Paige asks what's going to be for dinner when they get home, he falters and suggests cereal. So Charlie really has no choice but to make them stay and eat.

"Have you ever kissed someone?" Johnny asks suspiciously, swinging his legs under the table until they collide with their new guest's knees. Charlie winces. She teaches them manners. They aren't feral children, she swears.

Jakes nods without looking up from his homework. "Yes."

"Did you do a good job?"

"Yes…"

Mike is eyeing the older boy's calculus book with interest but seems to decide that it would be a little much for a kindergartener. "Can you drive?"

"Got here, didn't I?"

The boys look to her for confirmation, and Charlie nods, hiding a smile.

"Can you drive on the beach?" Johnny seems excited by the idea, and she doesn't want to know why. Whatever he has cooking in his head, she'd rather step in at the last second so she doesn't have to wait around for him to make a move.

"The ocean part," Mike clarifies.

Sighing, Dale gives up and puts his pencil down. "No. You would need a boat for that."

"Have you ever been in a fight?"

"Yeah."

" _Did you win?"_

"Yes."

Mike narrows his eyes. "Do you do drugs?"

"Only on Thursdays."

He glances out of the corner of his eye to see what Charlie thinks about what he told her sons, but she winks and pretends not to have heard it.

They clear the table for dinner, and when everything's served, Paige tugs at his arm and DJ leans down to hear her better.

"Are we going to see…?" She trails off, and Charlie tilts her head, wondering what has her so hesitant all of a sudden.

Avoiding her eyes, Jakes shakes his head and nods for Paige to take a bite of her carrots. "No, kid," he says softly. It doesn't help much, because the boys are eating instead of talking, so voices are carrying in the almost silent kitchen. "We're gonna stay away from there for a while."

Charlie purses her lips. What the hell is going on with this family?

* * *

On Thursday, Paul knocks and lets himself in to find three different corners occupied with a fidgeting kid and Charlie standing cross-armed in the middle of it all.

"What's she in for?" he asks, making himself comfortable on the couch.

"Fire escape shenanigans. All three of them," Charlie says darkly, clearly not over whatever said shenanigans entailed.

She sighs and drops down next to him, rubbing her temples. "I'm in the bathroom for three minutes and they launch a mission to give me a freakin' heart attack."

The microwave timer goes off and everyone jumps. "That's Mike's timer," Charlie warns. "You two stay put."

Once released from his time out, Mike shyly climbs up on the couch, as far away from Paul as he could possibly get without perching on the arm. Paul smiles gently at him, and nods towards the paper sticking out of his pocket. "What's that?"

"Picture," Mike mumbles. "Made it at school."

"Can I see?"

The crayon drawing is pretty indecipherable, but Paul can make out what seems to be badge and gun.

"Police officers?" he guesses. The second timer goes off, and he watches as Charlie crouches down next Paige, offering a hug that Paige gladly reciprocates.

Mike shakes his head furiously. "FBI," he says seriously.

Paul smiles. Irony, he guesses.

When he looks up again, Charlie is watching his strangely, like she wants to analyze how he reacts to the picture. What, does she think he's going to tell him it sucks?

Paige comes barreling towards him and Paul hoists her into his lap. "Hi, troublemaker. Did you serve hard time?"

She nods earnestly. "I had to stand there the whole time," she says, sounding stunned. "And I _tried_ to leave, but Charlie made me go back!"

Charlie gives him a look that clearly says, _really?_

Paul shrugs. So discipline is a little lax at the Briggs household.

Shyly, Mike seems to pick up on Paige's awe and offers his picture as a consolation of sorts. "It's the FBI," he announces.

Paige startles and would have dropped it if Briggs didn't steady her hand so as to not hurt Mike's feelings. She looks at him, panicked, and Briggs remembers that she gets a little skittish when someone mentions something that hits too close to what he does for a living.

"It's okay," he confirms.

Beaming, Paige stuffs the drawing in her own pocket and leans over to kiss Mike's cheek.

Charlie catches his eye and smiles.

* * *

The kids are in a bad mood on the last day of this temporary arrangement, and it must be rubbing off on her because Charlie is feeling pretty sour herself.

"You'll see each other at school," she promises, ignoring the errant part of her mind that's pointing out that she and Paul probably _won't_ see each other again.

Paul knocks, and when she opens the door, she tames her face into something that more closely resembles a smile than a smirk but isn't really either. He smiles back and hurries past her.

"Thanks again," he says distractedly. "I don't know what we would have done without you this week."

"Yeah, well…" She shrugs. "It wasn't so bad."

He explains that they have to leave quickly, that he has to be at work in half an hour for some sort of emergency.

A tae bo emergency? Something is still off. She should be glad to have the whole mess taken out of hands.

"Say 'bye'," Paul encourages, and Paige does. Charlie kisses her head before stepping back and looking at Briggs like she's not sure what she's supposed to do here.

Probably because she isn't.

Briggs nods. "See ya around."

This time, they only make it to the door before Charlie chases them down.

"So," she says, taking a deep breath. "We do this thing called Sauce Night…"

**Author's Note:**

> I shouldn't be doing this. The next chapter of Distance is only kind of finished and I've been kind of neglecting Dynamic, so I really shouldn't be doing this.
> 
>  
> 
> But apparently, I'm doing this, so enjoy!


End file.
